Tag: Childhoodemotionalabuse
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The Constant Clock: Living Life Around His Work Schedule
Time ruled our house long before I understood what time even meant. Not hours or minutes, but moods. We didn’t need a calendar; we just needed to know where he was. The week ahead didn’t depend on the weather or what was going on at school. It depended on his schedule. His shifts weren’t just… Read more
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Post 15: Why I Don’t Drink
Sometimes I’m surprised I’m still alive. I’m sure I was a passenger in my mother’s car many times while she was drunk. Crazy, right? But it’s the truth. My first “drink” came when I was 12 years old. It was a hot August day, I was playing baseball in Niagara Falls, and I had been… Read more
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Post 14: Cleveland, 1994: When My Pain Had a Price Tag
I was fifteen years old, and for me, this was everything. I had made the Toronto team for the Junior Maccabi Games in Cleveland. The tryouts, the long hours of practice, the prep work, it had all paid off. Representing my city. Wearing that jersey. Traveling with my teammates. Making new friends. Walking into the… Read more
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Post 11: Even the Animals Weren’t Safe
When most kids dream of getting a pet, they picture joy, laughter, and unconditional love. I dreamed of that too. But in my father’s house, even the animals weren’t safe. Growing up, I learned the hard way that nothing was safe, not even the animals. The same cruelty and control he used on people extended… Read more
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Post 10: What Set Him Off: The Things That Shouldn’t Have Mattered
When I look back on my childhood, what stands out isn’t just the big blowups…it’s the small, everyday things that somehow became dangerous. Things that should never have mattered. My father could be set off by almost anything. Leaving a soggy bar of soap in the dish. Using the can opener directly on the counter.… Read more
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Post 6: The Constant Question… “Is He in a Good Mood?”
If I had a nickel for every time I asked my mom, ‘Is he in a good mood today?’ I wouldn’t have to work anymore. That one question hovered over my childhood like a dark cloud. It’s not something any child should have to ask…but for me, it was daily survival. His moods weren’t just… Read more
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Post 4: The Moment I Knew: When My Daughter Was Born
I knew I was emotionally abused long before I ever said it out loud. I knew it in the quiet moments when my chest tightened for no reason, when I couldn’t stand up for myself, when I felt small in rooms I should have felt safe in. But knowing it and feeling it are two… Read more